Pokemon World
by horseradish-sprout
Summary: So many stories are told of trainers, evil teams, and epic battles, but as the song goes, we ALL live in a Pokemon world. What about everyone else? These are a collection of one-offs and short stories, each focused one an original character living with their Partner Pokemon in the world of the Pokemon games/anime. Will update Genres and stuff as more stories get posted!
1. The Anniversary Visit (Growlithe)

The alarm clock blared at seven; a harsh and repetitive buzz that jolted Margaret awake. She lay on her bed and let its invasive monotone melody drag her from her sleep. At the foot of her bed, her Growlithe's head perked up. He looked at his partner, his head tilted curiously, and then he dragged himself onto his four paws and trotted over. Margaret stretched out her withered hand to feel his coarse orange and black striped fur as he rested his jaw on the snooze button of the alarm clock. The silence overtook the room, although outside, Margaret could hear some Pidgey chirping happily.

Margaret debated whether she should wait until the alarm went off a second time, but now that the Growlithe knew she was awake, he kept prodding her arm with his nose. She brought her hand to his chin and scratched it lovingly. "I suppose it's time for breakfast, Cooper." He yipped excitedly, and a small burst of flame lit up the old bedroom, casting a fresh orange light on the walls.

She rose from the bed awkwardly and stretched. Her old joints were reluctant to bend with the ease they did thirty, forty years ago. She switched off the alarm and slowly moved three feet to her balcony door, covered by a thick blackout curtain. With a slight effort, she grasped the edge of the curtain and pulled to the side. Sunlight flooded the room, and squinting, Margaret looked out the glass door.

Margaret had lived on the fifteenth floor in one of the richer neighborhoods of Goldenrod City for almost her whole life, and when she was younger, when Bobby was still alive, friends and neighbors alike would revel at her bedroom view. Her apartment faced the East, and though it didn't have the sweeping beach vistas of Western Goldenrod, from her apartment she could see what felt like the entirety of Johto, from the Ilex Forest to the South to the mysterious Ruins of Alph, which stood quietly, glowing an almost golden hue in the morning sunlight. But the only one who other than her who looked out at it was Cooper, who was squeaking softly, eager for his breakfast. "I hear you, I hear you," Margaret teased, pulling the curtains down again and patting his head. "Let's get you some kibble."

She walked into the kitchen, small and cozy, and she opened the cupboard door underneath the steel sink. She made to bend down as far as her back would let her, but it was not very far at all. Her arthritis was acting up again, and she groaned at the dull pain. Cooper instinctively brushed past her and grabbed a large cup with his mouth, offering it gently to her. Margaret smiled sadly; he was having to grab things for her more often lately. She took the cup from him and the two shuffled out of the kitchen and toward the front door, where she stopped at a closet door right next to a worn-out welcome mat. "Wipe your paws!" the mat read, next to a cartoony rendering of a Lillipup, whose bright, large eyes stared at Margaret expectantly, as if she were to feed it as well.

She slid open the wooden closet door and her eyes fell to a rest on the bag of Brock's Poké-Pellets (_Made with my own trusty frying/drying pan!_ the label read excitedly). When opening the bag, she was greeted with the pungent odor of ground up whatever the pellets were made of, and as she scooped out a cup full of pellets, she and Cooper shared in scrunching up their nose at the smell. Margaret glanced over at Cooper, who was still reeling from the smell. "You know," she chided, "if you stopped sneaking into my snack stashes, you wouldn't be so chubby, and I we could go back to that non-diet kibble you like…" Cooper growled in a playful warning, but she was already back in the kitchen, pouring the food into his bowl.

Margaret dropped the cup back into its spot in the cupboard and turned around to see Cooper still in the hallway. "I thought you were hungry, Cooper." Cooper growled playfully again while bouncing on his haunches, his mouth alight with soft orange fire.

"Now, Cooper," Margaret warned, her voice frail but still stern enough to command his attention. "We talked about this, no more embers inside. The GRFD isn't fond of coming over here as often as they do, and I don't think Chief Tark was joking when he said you might have to be impounded." At this, Cooper stopped and sat back down, staring intently at her.

"We can walk after breakfast," Margaret said, smiling.

The sun was high enough in the sky that the day was already warming. The radio had told her that it would be a warm one, so Margaret had quickly wolfed down her breakfast, packed up a small bag, and left her apartment with Cooper at her side. Cooper pulled at his collar testily, but Margaret's grip held firm. She harkened back to just over a year ago, when Bobby was still around. Cooper had always listened to Bobby more; after all, he chose him as his partner, but then again, so had she. "Til death do us part" may have been what men and women said to each other, but if there was any way it could hold truer as a statement, it would have been with a Pokémon and its partner. She figured that the two of them could continue on as partners in their own way, but as much as she loved Cooper, and as much as he loved her, the bond just was not as strong.

"Morning, Margaret!" chirped a man behind a berry stand at the end of the corner. "Where are you two off to, today?"

"I'm seeing my son, Dale" Margaret said simply. Dale's face immediately darkened.

"Today's the anniversary, I forgot," he said. "Here, have an oran berry on me. Cooper can have one, too!" Dale tossed one of the blue berries to Cooper, who caught it in his mouth and nearly swallowed it whole.

"You know that he's on a diet, Dale," Margaret croned.

Dale shrugged and handed her the second berry. "A single oran berry isn't going to do anything to him," he teased. Margaret sighed in resignation, bit into the berry, and turned, going down the street that ran perpendicular to hers.

"Hey, Margaret!" Dale called after her. "You give any thought to—"

"The answer is _no_, Dale," she said coldly, not breaking her stride. "It's always going to be a no."

"Oh, come on, Madge," he called out. "Ricky needs a good fire type if he's going to make the gym circuit; he won't stand a chance against Jasmine. Heck, even Bugsy's gonna—"

"I…_said…_no!" Margaret shouted, wheeling around and staring at him. Cooper turned as well, and looked at her intently, as if jealous that she could use the fire in her eyes for attacks while he couldn't use his literal fire attacks.

"And he'll train him up real good, Cooper will be an Arcanine in no time!"

"Cooper doesn't _need _to be an Arcanine; Bobby and I never _wanted _him to be an Arcanine."

"And you can still see him whenever you want once Ricky's made his journey!"

"But I like being able to see Cooper whenever I want _now_," Margaret yelled indignantly.

"We can set up a trade!" Dale offered. "You know, he got a Machop from the shipping yards on the West side of Goldenrod; a good Machop could be a lot of help around the house now that…well…"

"Now that I'm what? Old?" Margaret spat. "If you're so worried about my Cooper outliving me, maybe you can try having this conversation when I'm _dead_!"

"We all know Cooper was Bobby's partner, you're only fooling yourself," Dale said defensively. "Maybe we can find you a partner better suited for you, maybe a Loudred, or something else that can drown out that shrill voice of yours!"

"Why, you little…"

But Margaret couldn't finish her thought, as a burst of flame spurt from Cooper's mouth and lit up the sidewalk between her and Dale. It was gone as quickly as it started, leaving Dale and Margaret both dazed. Cooper barked and walked over to Margaret, licking the hand that still had the unfinished oran berry in it. She blinked and turned her hand over, letting Cooper take the entire berry in his mouth greedily, took a deep breath, and composed herself.

"Cooper stays with me," she said, her voice devoid of any emotion. "I will not have you tearing my family further apart than it already is." Cooper barked in agreement, having finished the snack, and the two made their way down the street without her ever turning back.

The flower shop at the Northwestern tip of the city had just opened when Margaret walked in. Cooper sniffed around all the roses and mums, and finally stopped in front of a vast display of Goldenrod flowers, remnants of the flowers that dotted the plains Goldenrod City was founded on many decades ago. Margaret followed him to the display and patted his furry head. "It's a good choice, Cooper," she said. "You know yellow, was his favorite color."

"Who's there? Oh!" came a voice from the back room of a shop. There was a bustling noise and after a couple seconds a middle-aged woman, whose messy hair was just starting to turn gray and had already fallen from her bun, nestling in the small folds of her face, burst through the door into the main part of the shop. "Hello, Margaret! I knew I'd see your face sometime this week. I mean, obviously I'm not happy to see you, because you only ever come in when—"

"It's alright, Wendy," Margaret cooed. "I know you two were close."

"I was worried that it would sound insensitive if I sounded excited for you to come in under the circumstances," she said sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Margaret insisted. "You're so sweet, Wendy. I should have you over for dinner again. Cooper missed you, you know." Cooper gave a quick bark, happily.

"I missed him too," Wendy said, and bent down to scratch his chin. Her voice had a small layer of sadness to it, and she lingered a bit longer than she usually would when scratching one of her customers' partner Pokémon. But she hopped up quickly, and her cheery mood was back. "A bunch of goldenrods? Same as always?"

"Yes, and…how about some roses? Some really nice red ones? Bobby loved the scent of roses…"

"Oh, that's right," Wendy said. "This is your first time going alone." Margaret nodded sadly. "I'm really sorry, I forgot that Bobby passed. I wanted to make it to the funeral, but I got held up at the shop, and—"

"Why don't you go with me?" Margaret asked. "I think Cooper would enjoy it if you joined us."

"You'd let me come with? I'd—I'd really love that, actually, but I've only got Sarah this morning, and if she gets a rush, she'll get overwhelmed, and—"

"It'll only be an hour, and no one really needs flowers until it's mid-afternoon and they realize they've forgotten their wedding anniversary."

"Sarah! I'm stepping out for a bit!" Wendy called to the back. "Give me a minute to get my things and I'll be right out."

"Will you be charging me for these?"

"Oh, that's right! Let me take those for you," Wendy said quickly, blushing.

The Goldenrod City graveyard was a somber place. Margaret never really liked going there, and as she and Bobby had entered their twilight years, they had agreed to only going once yearly to pay their respects. Unfortunately, this time, she would have to make a stop at two graves instead of one. Fortunately, Wendy was with her, and had brought some goldenrod flowers of her own.

Cooper was the first to spot the headstones, two simple granite plaques that lay in the grass - Bobby had never been one for ornate decorations. Cooper bounded up to the stones, and Margaret did not stop him. Instead, she let go of his leash and stayed back. The Growlithe sniffed around at the first stone, then the second, and when he recognized that the latter belonged to Bobby, he sat down and howled mournfully.

Margaret did not step forward for a long time, and it was only until Wendy softly placed her hand on her back that she moved at all. The two walked up to the graves and placed their flowers. Margaret brushed Cooper off the second grave and read the words on the stone.

Robert Torres  
Feb. 12 1947 – Dec. 13 2018  
_Devoted Husband, Partner, Father  
"This is not the end. It is just the first  
new place I'm venturing to."_

She lay the roses on top, obscuring the words. Cooper rested his head on her outstretched arm. The two shared a moment before turning to the first gravestone, where Wendy was doing the same with the second headstone, with the two bunches of goldenrod flowers. Margaret rose and placed her hand on Wendy's shoulder. Cooper buried his nose in her lap. Wendy shuddered, sobbing lightly, and it was only then that Margaret noticed that on her hand was a diamond ring.

"You kept the ring he gave you?" she asked.

"He said he wanted to be with me forever," she said quietly. "I know it's just a promise ring, and we weren't even engaged, but I felt like forever could have happened with him." She pulled herself up and looked at Margaret with watery eyes. Margaret felt her own eyes get cloudy, and in trying to compose herself, she looked down at the second grave.

Cooper Torres  
Mar. 30 1970 – Jul. 8 2010  
_Devoted Son and Teacher_  
_"The fire of love is inside of me,  
and it warms me so I can warm others."_

The tears came anyway. She missed her husband and her son both. She commiserated with the woman who was almost her daughter-in-law, and Cooper let out another soft, mournful howl.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it! If you've got a Pokemon you want me to do a one-off of, let me know in a review! Hopefully it won't be as heavy as this one, but no promises.**


	2. Special Effects (Roggenrola)

The crew watched the small house on the hill intensely. It sat atop a grassy knoll, overlooking its tiny domain and unaware of its fate, which was quickly approaching. I glanced sideways at Greg, whose hand was up with his fingers. I glanced back up and in the sky two Tranquill soared up ahead. They cleared the house, and from the corner of my eye, I saw that Greg's hand gesture changed to a thumbs up. I brought the walkie-talkie up to my face and hit the talk button. "Go," I whispered.

There was a single second when nothing happened, and then the house exploded. We were all a safe distance away, but I could see a couple of the younger ones flinch. It was always exciting, your first explosion. Pieces of wood fell to the ground, and where the house once stood was now a small fire, flickering orange in the daylight, and spewing a soft vapor of gray smoke. All eyes were now on Greg, whose hand was still up. It seemed like a fine enough explosion to me, but it was his eye that mattered at the end of the day.

"Aaaaaaaaaaand _cut_," he said loudly. The cameraman in front of him clicked a button and chatter erupted among the crew. One woman, Melissa, ran up the knoll with a fire extinguisher to put the fire out. Her journey was a quick one; although I knew the house was just a model, watching her bound up the hill like a fifty-meter giant was still disarming. "Let me check the playback," Greg continued. "Rydell, wake up your boy." I nodded and followed the woman up the hill.

I reached the small house at the top of the hill, and I kicked the charred planks around. At the bottom of the pile lay Rupert, dazed and weak, but otherwise unharmed. I picked him up by his football-sized center stone and cradled him in my arms, being sure to wipe off the white goo from the fire extinguisher. "Good job, buddy. Here you are. One revive." I dug into my pocket and pulled out a small, yellow crystal and dropped it into the little hole on his belly. It slipped through a crack somewhere where I knew his mouth was, and he quickly came to, wriggling around in my embrace.

"There we go, Rupe," I said. "Last one for the day. Let's grab a couple berries before we get back to the trailer. Craft Services has been killing it today."

"That's for sure," Melissa agreed. "Let me join you, exploding things is thirsty work and I would kill for a lemonade." I dropped Rupert to the ground and he landed on his two stubby legs. Melissa and I walked down the grass, with Rupert waddling along behind us.

"Explosion was still a bit too big this time, Rydell," Greg said unhappily as we reached the end.

"We might be able to cut it down in post, right?" I asked for what might be the thirtieth time.

"We can't—that's not how post-production works!" Greg sputtered. "If you can't control your Roggenrola's explosions better, we're going to need a new Roggenrola. Get it together, man."

"I'm sorry," I said, eyes sharpening. "You get the explosions you pay us to make."

"The _producers_ are paying you for a _small explosion_, and you were supposed to provide it. May I remind you that I am the director, I am the one who decides how big the explosions should be, and _I_ think the explosion was too big?"

"The model house was too small."

"Rydell, you know I've only hired you—"

"Out of a favor, yeah, yeah, I've heard it every other time Rupert messed the explosion up. Maybe if you gave us a bit more of an idea of what you want before you ask him to nearly kill himself, we'd be able to do it."

"The only way I could be more direct was if I _hired a lawyer to write it down in perfect legal-ese_!" he yelled bitterly. "You know what? Whatever, get out. You're done here. Get off my set. Mel, get props on the line, tell them they've got to make another friggin' house." He blundered away, swearing about how he'd have to find something else to blow things up. Melissa gave me a sad look, mouthed an apology, and followed him. Everyone else stared at me.

"What, you guys never seen a guy fired before? Whatever," I grumbled, rushing craft services to get Rupert his berries.

* * *

Mark came home to see me, still stewing, sitting on the floor in the dark with Rupert, watching an old movie about the Kanto Elite Four. I didn't even need to look at him to feel his knowing glance. He no doubt had been talking to Greg. After an agonizing moment standing in the entryway, he sighed and shut the door softly.

"Heard you had a bit of a day," he said, testing the waters. I didn't say anything, just kept watching the movie.

The actor playing Bruno called out an Onix, and I watched the careful choreography between the rock snake and its challenger, what should have been a very unfortunate Magmar. I had seen this fight so many times that I could find every single moment there was a cheat in the camera angle. I could see when the Onix slammed its head just a bit too far away from the Magmar, or when the direction of Magmar's Fire Blast was just a bit too far off to the right. The fight, long ago, was inspiring. It was what made me move to Unova in the first place, hoping to make it big in Pokéstar Studios, but now each false angle, each special effect, and each quick edit that was made had all lost their luster, leaving me with a feeling as hollow as Rupert's center boulder.

"I talked to Greg today, saved your job. Again. You're welcome," Mark said, growing testy.

"I don't want it back," I snapped. "Not until he starts treating Rupert like a living creature and not a stick of dynamite."

"He's not so bad…"

"Yeah, to actors like you, maybe not," I cried in frustration. "If it weren't for the union laws, he'd have Rupert exploding twenty times a day. You know he's hit the five-boom limit every day for the past four weeks?"

"Rye…" Mark said with exhaustion.

"Every day," I continued, unfazed. "And that's not an exaggeration, either! I counted. Twenty-eight times five. That's _two hundred and forty explosions._ Do you know what that kind of thing does to Rupert? He's exhausted!"

"I know he's exhausted, but—"

"But what?" I yelled. "Look at him!" I gestured wildly to Rupert, who was cowering next to me.

Mark took a deep breath and knelt beside me, letting his hand rest on my shoulder. "You know that Greg is a very…particular director." His voice was softer, more sympathetic.

"Yeah, well he _particularly_ pissed me off today," I muttered.

"He apologized," he said hopefully.

"He won't apologize to my face."

"Then I don't know how to help you, Rye," he said, letting his hand drop to the floor. "I love you, but your anger is burning far more bridges than you're trying to build by working here." He moved from his haunches to sitting on his knees. His eyes, sorrowful and honest, were burning into my skull.

"We specialize in explosions in a market dominated by action movies, there are plenty of bridges, Mark. I'll be fine."

"Not when you have the reputation of being a nightmare to work with," he sighed, leaned over, and kissed me on my hairline, his lips hovering over me as he watched the scene in front of us. This was the turning point of the battle, where the Magmar, nearly beaten, pulled a psychic attack out of nowhere, disorienting the Onix and sending it tumbling to the ground. "Look," Mark said playfully, "Magmar knows that you get a lot further in life by using your head."

"Yeah, well James Rydell knows that that's just a camera trick, and that the Magmar didn't do anything for that shot."

"Yeah, well Mark Hopper thinks his boyfriend is being an idiot and wondering why he's still going to make him dinner and cuddle him before bed. Come on, we know how the movie ends, help me prep the veggies."

"Fine," I said, admittedly in a better mood. I clicked the TV off and followed him into the kitchen. "Do I still have to go into work tomorrow?"

"If you're too proud for your own career to flourish, no," Mark said.

"Thanks for keeping me grounded, Mark."

"Go figure I find the one man who literally trains ground types and can't keep himself grounded."

"Your words are like a thunderbolt, but they don't effect me, so I'm...plenty...ground type," I said, losing faith in my comeback with every word that came out of my mouth.

"Thank Arceus you aren't a writer; even I couldn't save you from that embarrassment," Mark said, laughing out loud. "But please go into work tomorrow, I don't want to have dealt with Angry Greg for nothing. Oh, hey, pal, how you doing?"

Rupert had come out into the kitchen with us, and was rubbing up against Mark's leg affectionately. "He clearly can handle doing the five-boom maximum. I know you worry about him, but he is a rock type. He's…sturdy, after all." The two of us laughed, then Mark turned a bit more serious.

"He does still want you to tighten up those five booms though."

"Mark, I swear to—"

"Hear me out," Mark interrupted. "He knows you're young, and he knows that Roggenrola like Rupert aren't the most reliable exploders in the game. I convinced him to lay off explosions for a bit, and maybe we can find some training methods so Rupert is more consistent."

"I don't deserve you," I said, embracing him.

"You don't, but I do like lost causes," he said slyly. Rupert rolled up to me and rubbed his stumps on me. He was hungry. So was I.

We had a peaceful dinner.

* * *

**Again, thanks for reading! Hope you're enjoying it so far! As always, if you want a specific pokemon, let me know in a review or a PM or whatever! **


End file.
